


Crossed Wires

by starsthatburn



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Accidental Relationship, Alternate Universe - Office, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Office Party, Texting, Wrong number
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27978246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsthatburn/pseuds/starsthatburn
Summary: After accidentally texting the wrong number, Emma starts up an unlikely friendship with the person on the other end of the line. Little does she know that the woman is her much-hated boss.Requested by ChaiW
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 49
Kudos: 647





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChaiW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaiW/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Chaya for requesting this piece! I had so much fun writing it.
> 
> Just a note - some people have been complaining about these recent stories being too short, so I just wanted to make everyone aware that because I'm working on commission at the moment, it's very unlikely that people will be able to request my usual 100k+ works. 
> 
> The people I've worked with so far have been incredibly generous supporting me and my writing, so I'd appreciate it if comments like that could be kept to yourself in future! x

Whenever her boss arrived in the office, all Emma could think about was the first time they'd met. 

It had been Emma's first day on the job. She hadn’t felt as nervous as in previous jobs, having been a temp for more than two years by that point, but there was still that faint tickle of anxiety at the sides of the stomach that she always tried to pretend wasn't there. Years of living in foster homes and having to pretend to be a nice, normal child whenever a new set of parents showed up for a tour had stuck with her, apparently, and so whenever she wandered into a new office with a box containing her favourite notebook and coffee mug clamped under one arm, part of her wondered whether she should comb her hair and plaster on an extra big smile just to impress them. 

On that particular first day, she'd gone for a more neutral approach: she’d walked out of the elevator with a takeaway Starbucks cup in one hand and a hopeful smile on her face, and had walked straight into the company's CEO. 

She didn't know the woman's name at that point. It hadn't come up in her very brief interview. All Emma knew was that, as her coffee spilled right down the front of a visibly expensive black dress, all traces of friendliness or pleasure had disappeared from the woman's face. Her dark brown eyes smouldered down to coal. Her plump, red lips had thinned and turned down at the corners, and she had looked at her newest employee with an expression so ferocious that Emma nearly slipped out the fire escape and never came back again. 

From then on, any time Regina Mills walked through the office, Emma slumped down in her chair and prayed she wouldn't glance her way. Her placement at that particular marketing firm would only last six weeks, right up until the office closed for the holidays, and all she could do was hope that if she stayed as quiet as possible, she might survive to see that day. 

Not that anyone else in the vast, open-plan office was as terrifying or unfriendly as their CEO was – in fact, Emma had a sneaking suspicion that when she left again in six weeks, she might even miss some of them. 

"Look at this," Elsa, the web designer who sat beside Emma as she filed endless invoices and tried to organise the company's content schedule, said one Friday afternoon. "It actually recognises my face." 

Emma glanced over at her. She was staring into her new iPhone like it had just repeated her darkest innermost secrets back to her. 

"When was the last time you got a new phone?" Emma asked slowly. 

"I don't know. Three or four years ago?" 

"Okay. And were you also impressed by touch screens then?" 

Elsa glared at her. "I was just about to give you my new number," she said, already scribbling it down. "But now I don't think I'll bother." 

"No. Please. Don't say that," Emma replied flatly. Elsa rolled her eyes and handed over the scrap of paper. 

"Use it wisely. No dirty photos unless I ask for them." 

Emma grinned and pulled out her own phone, beginning to tap in the number. She was pretty friendly with everyone in that office already, but this was the first time anyone had given her any indication that they might actually want to socialise outside of work. As temp jobs went, she was feeling pretty positive. 

And then the door at the back of the room opened and her boss walked out. Regina was wearing a black dress that was painfully similar to the one Emma had ruined a week earlier, and a scowl that suggested she didn't want anyone getting in her way this time. 

Emma's thumb slipped as she typed Elsa's number in, but with her eyes on Regina, she didn't notice. 

"You," Regina snapped. Emma automatically jumped, then wilted with relief when she realised she was talking to the teenage intern. "Did you finish that spreadsheet I asked for?" 

As the poor child trembled and nodded, Emma momentarily considered how strange it was that she'd never seen this woman refer to anyone by their actual name. Come to think of it, she wasn't entirely certain Regina knew who any of them were, or what they were doing there – she just snapped her fingers and, eventually, the right person jumped. 

As if she'd heard her think that, Regina turned her head and locked eyes with Emma. They looked at each other for a moment, Emma's cheeks burning instantly, before Regina glanced away again with an impatient sigh. 

* * *

As Emma gathered up her things that evening, Elsa called out to her again. "Em, are you watching the Great British Baking Show?" 

Emma shoved her orange-stained Tupperware into her backpack and nodded. "Of course. I'm going to catch up tonight." 

"Text me," Elsa said. "I want your thoughts." 

And so Emma settled down on her threadbare couch that night with Netflix open on her laptop, waiting for the new episode to start. Within 10 minutes, someone's choux pastry hadn't risen, and she grabbed her phone gladly. 

_I seriously wonder why these people_ _don't_ _practice choux at home when they know_ _they're_ _going to be on TV_ , she typed out. After the message had sent, she added, _It's_ _Emma, by the way_ _._

She didn't get a text back right away, so she settled back and continued watching the show on her tiny screen. She did have a TV, but a few months earlier it had stopped connecting to any channel besides ones that tempted her to buy cheap jewellery and omelette-makers at 3am, so it usually stayed off. 

Emma sipped at her beer and glanced out the window, where it was long since dark. As the city crawled closer to Christmas, the clouds above it had spent days hovering fat with snow, but hadn't quite broken out yet. She sighed wistfully and hoped that, if she stared for long enough, it would finally happen. 

Then her phone buzzed against her leg and she looked down at it. 

_I think you_ _have the wrong number._

Her stomach dropped slightly. After a moment rooting around in the back pocket of her jeans, she found the scrap of paper Elsa had handed her. She compared the number to the one on her screen and realised that she'd been so distracted by Regina slamming her office door open, she'd typed in at least four of the digits in the wrong order. 

Rolling her eyes, she replied, _Sorry!_ before returning to the show. When the baker's second batch of choux turned into pancake batter in the oven, she hesitated before grabbing her phone again. _But if_ _you're_ _watching, you_ _have to_ _admit_ _it's_ _pretty chaotic_ _._

She couldn’t say why she’d written that. She wasn't sure she was even expecting a reply. But her apartment felt particularly cold that night and her thoughts – even if they were only about badly constructed pastries – were clattering around inside her head like a tornado destroying a barn. For whatever reason, she just really wanted someone to distract her. 

The second she'd sent the message, she switched screens and typed in Elsa's actual number. She hadn’t even finished repeating her earlier message when her phone buzzed with something else. 

_I_ _actually_ _already watched the new episode a few days ago. And yes – it was_ _shambolic_ _._

Emma blinked. _A few days ago? How did you make that happen?_

_I used a VPN. I love that show and_ _won't_ _allow it to get spoiled by social media._

Weirdly, Emma felt slightly impressed. It took a very specific level of dedication to hack into the UK's streaming services just so you could watch a baking show a couple of days early. 

She went to reply with something along those lines, but then Elsa texted her back. Emma smiled and settled in, clutching her phone with two hands as she tried to stave off some of her loneliness for the night. 

* * *

Emma knocked lightly on the door to her boss's office and waited for that terrifying, slightly seductive voice to tell her to enter. When it did, she slipped into the room and tried to ignore the overwhelming smell of expensive perfume and cinnamon lattes. 

"Hi," she said. Regina was sitting at her desk and hadn't looked up upon her arrival. She was wearing her reading glasses – thick-framed ones that made her face look even more angular and intimidating – and was scribbling something down in a notebook. It took a full minute for her to stop writing and finally lift her gaze. 

Her dark eyes landed on Emma, rested there, and didn't blink. "What can I do for you?" 

"Archie said you wanted to see these numbers," Emma replied, stepping forward with the papers she'd just printed out. Her hand was shaking slightly when she passed them across the desk. 

Regina took them, sniffed, and said, "Why didn't he bring them in?" 

"I don't know. I guess he's busy." 

"Or too scared to show me himself how badly his campaign is doing," Regina replied briskly. She scanned over the papers once more, then looked up at Emma with raised eyebrows. "Did you want something else?" 

Emma jumped. "Err. No." 

"Then why are you still here?" 

Burning with embarrassment, Emma turned on her heel and hurried out of the office. She couldn't help but shoot Archie a look of hatred as she passed by his desk. 

* * *

At the end of the week, she settled down with Netflix once again. She and Elsa had been texting fairly regularly all week, but she was excited to have an actual topic of conversation to discuss with her. In the lead-up to Christmas, with work being busier and more stressful than she'd been expecting when she'd signed on, she particularly enjoyed her cosy Friday nights in watching people making needlessly elaborate desserts while Elsa chirped on her phone about how badly she wanted to stick her face in the icing. When someone's cake collapsed entirely, Emma's phone buzzed yet again. 

She glanced down at it and frowned. It wasn't from Elsa. 

_You'd_ _think that, by now,_ _they'd_ _know that opening the oven door a hundred times will end in a sunken sponge._

It was from the number Emma had mistakenly saved as her co-worker's. Hearing from that person again was genuinely surprising, and at first she wasn't sure if they'd texted her by mistake. 

She slowly replied. _You_ _didn't_ _use your VPN trick this week?_

_Work's been too busy – this is the first night_ _I've_ _had off since last weekend._

Barely paying attention to what was happening on TV anymore, Emma crossed her legs and typed out another response. _That sucks. And yet for some reason, during your very first moment of free time, you decided to text me?_

_You're_ _the only person I know who cares about this show._

_Right, except you_ _don't_ _know me either._

She was worried maybe that would stop this other person from replying, but she instantly saw the typing bubble at the bottom of the screen. 

_Fine. Remind me what your name is?_

_Emma._

_Well then, Emma – now that we're acquaintances, tell me: is it just me who would like to pour that entire bowl of chocolate ganache directly into my mouth?_

Emma grinned and replied once more. _Definitely not_ _just you._ _I'll_ _race you to it._

* * *

On the other side of the city, sitting in an apartment with a working TV and two empty bedrooms, Regina was smirking down at her phone in exactly the same manner. The slightly-too-generous glass of red wine she'd poured herself was sitting neglected on the coffee table in front of her. 

She couldn't for the life of her say why she'd decided to text this woman again. It wasn't like she'd felt a sudden bond or lifelong connection during their first 30-second interaction. Rather, she hated to admit, it was more likely that it had been the first time her personal cell had buzzed with a message that wasn't from her network provider in about three weeks. When she'd seen an actual human being texting her, she'd frozen with shock. It didn't matter that it had been an accident – it was a novelty, and Regina didn't get to experience many of those nowadays. 

Her apartment was huge and expensive and empty, which made the buzzing of her phone even more jarring. She looked down at it once more. 

_And_ _what's_ _your name?_

The suspicion that her mother had drilled into her from an early age immediately reappeared. "Remember, Regina," Cora had said coldly more than once. “You don't have much to offer people except your looks and your money. Make sure you protect them as well as you can." 

So Regina picked up her phone and replied to the only person in the world who wanted to speak to her with an answer that wasn't quite true, but also wasn't quite a lie. _Gina._ _It's_ _nice to meet you._

_It's_ _nice to meet you too_ , Emma replied. Regina smiled – she liked the woman's name. She was also immensely relieved to learn that this person was a woman at all. As sad as this whole interaction was, the only thing that would make it worse was if the stranger on the other end was a predatory man watching people bake while surrounded by his wife and five kids. The fact that she'd found herself talking to someone who might actually be slightly similar to her was, in the strangest possible way, the most comfortable thing she'd experienced in a while. 


	2. Chapter 2

Out of nowhere, Regina found herself having a friend. 

It shouldn't have come as such a shock to her, but it did. The last time she'd had someone in her life who actually spoke to her on a regular basis had been years earlier, and she'd been pretty sure he only wanted to converse with her because they usually ended up having sex afterwards. She'd stopped speaking to Robin once she'd found out he was married and had a kid – ever since then, part of her had closed itself off and sealed itself away, never to be seen again. 

Until now. Although there were still things she didn't share with her new pen friend – where she worked, for example, or photos of herself – she still lit up slightly whenever Emma's name popped up on her screen. They had taken to texting most evenings, and sometimes Regina would even wake up to a message first thing in the morning. Those were the best days – she found herself with an inexplicable spring in her step any time she saw the words, _Morning! I got up early to go for a run. I hope you have a really good day._

She knew it was strange to call this woman a friend when she didn't even know what she looked like, but that didn't bother her. She knew the important things – that she was terrified of turning 30 the following year, that she'd never met her parents, and that she had never stayed in a job longer than six months. Emma had lived all over the country but had never been abroad, and hadn't been in a relationship since she was 17. She sounded wild and messy, and although those were traits Regina normally hated, she found herself completely enamoured by them in this person. 

_Don't you miss having a steady income?_ Regina asked one day as she walked from her town car to the office. Normally she'd be worried the words would cause offence, but somehow nothing ever seemed to offend Emma. 

_Not really. Steadiness has never worked out super well for me._

Regina didn't entirely understand what that meant, so she replied with an emoji that was quizzically raising an eyebrow. Only a block away from where Regina was approaching the office, Emma started typing again immediately. 

_Whenever I get close to people or things, I tend to get pushed away again_ , she wrote, her hands quivering slightly. _If I temp, it means I get to be the one to leave before someone else beats me to it._

She forced a smile and wrote another message. _Sorry, that's a bit deep for a Tuesday morning, isn’t it?_

_I get it. I mean, I_ _don't_ _have any close friends because I find it difficult to trust people properly._

_Is that your mom's work again?_ Emma asked. Gina had told her a few days earlier about the effect her mother had had on her - pushing her to do better, to never fail, to never let anyone down or regret taking a chance on her. She wasn't surprised that had resulted in a woman who decided not to let people get close in the first place. 

_Probably. But_ _maybe I_ _shouldn't_ _keep blaming her for everything, right?_

Emma grinned but, as she'd reached the office lobby and was struggling to pull her temporary key card out of her pocket to show to the security guard, didn't reply right away. Everyone else in the building could just swipe through and head on up to their floor, but not the Christmas temps. Personally, Emma felt like her boss must be responsible for that too – anything to stop people from feeling like they were even slightly appreciated. 

Just as that thought struck her, she saw Regina entering the building. She was looking down at her cell phone with a thoughtful expression on her face and didn't notice her least favourite employee starting at her from across the foyer. After a beat, she put her phone away and glided through the glass gate and toward the elevators. Emma reluctantly followed. 

She didn't realise she was the only person getting in the elevator with Regina until the doors were starting to close. By then, it was far too late to dart back out again and wait for the next one. 

Sucking in her gut, Emma forced a smile and said, "Good morning." 

Regina was looking at her phone once more, her expression slightly concerned. She glanced up at the voice and frowned when she saw the Christmas temp standing beside her. 

After a beat, she realised she didn't even know her name. In her head, she just referred to her as Goldilocks. 

As if on cue, the temp nervously brushed one of her long, blonde curls back from her face. Regina's insides twitched as she elevator lights bounced off them. 

"Morning," she replied eventually, looking back down at her cell. She shouldn't really be concerned that Emma hadn't replied to her after only a few minutes, but it was still unlike her. Emma always seemed to be available whenever she needed her. 

On the other side of the elevator, the temp was taking a step back from her. Regina was glad – she still remembered the day when Goldilocks had poured coffee all down her dress, and she didn't want to relive that ever again. 

Emma felt tight and hot from the awkward conversation and immediately grabbed her own phone, finally going to reply to Gina's message about her mother. 

_If she_ _wasn't_ _such a piece of work,_ _maybe you_ _wouldn't_ _have to._ She paused, then added, _Sorry for the delay, was just getting into work. Do you think_ _you'll_ _have an okay day ahead of you?_

One of the things Regina found most fascinating about Emma was the way she felt the need to apologise for absolutely everything. She didn't owe this total stranger an explanation about her five-minute absence, and yet she offered it anyway. Always. 

Emma didn't notice her boss smiling down at her screen and beginning to type. 

_And if your parents had decided to give child-raising a go,_ _maybe you_ _wouldn't_ _feel the need to apologise so much._

Regina ignored the faint snort of laughter from across the elevator. They had reached their floor, and she quickly pocketed her phone and sauntered out into the office. Emma, grinning down at her screen and trying to think of a way to reply to Gina's wicked message that would make her laugh in return, barely even noticed they'd arrived. The only thing that alerted her to the change of scenery was the waft of perfume that floated toward her as her boss walked away without a word. 

* * *

Two weeks before Christmas, Emma was finally starting to settle into her work. That was always the way, unfortunately – right before it was time to leave, that was when she decided she might actually like it. 

"I still can't believe you're not sticking around after the holidays," Elsa said huffily. It was only four o'clock, but the sky was pitch black outside. "What am I going to do after you leave?" 

"Actually get some work done?" 

"I get plenty of work done, thank you." 

Emma looked pointedly at where Elsa was stringing tinsel up around her computer monitor. "Right." 

"You're coming to the Christmas party though, right?" 

"I guess. If I'm invited." 

"Of course you're invited," Elsa snapped. "It's on the 20th. We normally just get loads of drinks and snacks in and talk about Regina behind her back." 

Emma smiled awkwardly and glanced up at where Regina herself was just leaving her office. She had a familiarly stormy look on her face, but Emma had finally stopped panicking whenever she saw it – after four weeks, she'd learned that that was just how she looked most of the time. 

Except, right at that second, Regina spotted a pile of papers sitting on the table outside her office door and froze. Emma's stomach dropped as she paused to look at them. 

For a moment, nothing happened. And then Regina turned to the rest of the office and said in her iciest voice, "Who left these here?" 

The room had been buzzing with chatter until then, but it immediately fell silent. Emma felt very sure that she was going to be sick. 

Eventually, she had to raise her hand. 

Regina looked at her for a moment. Then she said, "Stand up." 

Emma shakily got to her feet. All of her worldly intuition told her that staying silent was her best option for survival, but the deep-rooted need to apologise and explain herself was already bubbling up like vomit. "I'm sorry – you were in a meeting and I didn't want to disturb you." 

Everyone in the office knew that was the right thing to have done. The only thing worse than spilling coffee all down the front of Regina Mills' dress was walking in on her when she was with an important client. Still, Regina's withering glare told them all that on this occasion, that didn't matter. The sky outside suddenly seemed even darker. 

"Did you not think these were important?" she asked. 

"I... did," Emma replied, glancing down at Elsa. "But I assumed you'd see them when you—" 

"Never assume in my office," Regina interrupted, slamming the papers back down on the table. "Never think you know better than me. If I'd left without seeing these, it could have been a disaster. Would you have been able to clean that up for me, Miss...?" 

Emma's throat had entirely dried out, but she still forced herself to say, "Swan." 

"Miss Swan. No, of course you wouldn't. Because you have no idea what you're doing here, do you?" 

To Emma's immense relief, Elsa finally piped up. "Regina, I told her to leave them there. That's always been the protocol." 

"Be quiet," Regina snapped, not even glancing at her. Her fiery gaze was still on Emma. "You. I want three copies of each of these papers, and I want them on my desk in 20 minutes." 

Based on the limited capabilities of the office copier, everyone knew that wouldn't be possible. They also knew, however, that pointing that out wouldn't be wise. 

Emma just nodded, hoping her burning cheeks weren't visible to absolutely everyone in the room, and waited for Regina to storm out. Before anyone could talk to her, she rushed over to grab the papers and headed to the copier alone. 

* * *

As the machine clattered and rumbled in the corner, Emma was able to sit down on the floor and catch her breath. She was immensely grateful when no one came to find her, since she was so angry that tears might not be far off and she couldn't imagine anything worse than someone walking in and seeing her crying like a child in the draughty copier room. 

She tapped her hands on her knees for a few minutes, hoping the rhythm would help calm her down. Inside, her heart was spasming against itself, filling her chest with acid. 

Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and texted Gina. _Hey. Are you still having a rough day?_

That morning, Gina had told her she'd barely slept an hour all night and then had been forced to endure a lengthy phone call with her mother at 8am. Those two things combined had put her in a pretty shitty mood. 

_Unfortunately_ _so, but at least_ _it's_ _nearly over_ , Gina replied. _How are you doing?_

Emma let out a long breath as she leaned her head back against the wall. _Bad. Tempted to walk out of my job right now._

One of her favourite things about Gina was that, no matter how busy she was, she always replied immediately when Emma needed her to. At that moment, even though Emma had barely hit send, she was already typing a response. _What happened?_

Emma tried to explain it in as few words as possible. _I messed something up and got hauled out in front of everyone._

_By your crazy, control-freak boss again?_

_Of course. She never misses an opportunity to make our lives hell._

Down the hall, Regina was leaning against the sink in the executive bathroom. She read the message and frowned. _Was the thing you messed up_ _really bad_ _?_

_Not hugely. I won't get into it, but something slipped through the net and she went crazy._

Regina scoffed. Although she herself was notoriously impatient when it came to lackadaisical work, Emma’s boss sounded just a shred too tyrannical for her liking. 

_That hardly seems fair_ , she wrote, wishing she was saying those words out loud so Emma could hear how gentle her voice was capable of getting. Sometimes it felt like life kept attacking Emma from all sides, and Regina so wished she could reach out and steady her. _You're doing your best, and of course things are going to get missed during the holidays. I hope she apologises to you later._

Emma laughed humourlessly. _She_ _won't_ _, but thanks for the positive thinking._

Regina paused, suddenly thinking back to the Christmas temp she'd just yelled at in front of everyone. At the time, her rage had seemed perfectly justified. But now, listening to Emma's story and realising for the first time in years what it was like to be on the other side of things, she felt guilty. Maybe she had overreacted. 

But for the time being, she ignored Goldilocks’ hurt feelings and decided that the best way to make amends would be to extend some good vibes into the universe. Admittedly, she’d been wanting to send this very text for weeks, but she pushed aside the knowledge that maybe she was being even more selfish than usual and hit send. 

_In the spirit of the holidays – and to hopefully make your day slightly better – would you like to meet face to face soon?_

Emma nearly dropped her phone. _Really?_

_Only if you feel comfortable with it. But we live in the same city and I've really come to think of you as a friend._ Regina sent the message, then waited with her heart pounding for a response. 

It took Emma longer than usual, but eventually she replied. _That_ _sounds great._

A huge grin took over Regina's face. _Really?_ _You're_ _sure?_

_I'm_ _positive._ _Maybe we_ _could grab a drink? Are you free on the 23rd?_

It was the perfect date, and Regina nearly sprained her wrist replying, _Yes, I am. That sounds wonderful._

Her bouncing stride was worlds different as she returned to the office. Everyone immediately looked down at their computers and pretending to be studiously typing as she walked past. Regina admired the facade, but she couldn't help but notice that someone was missing. 

Thinking about Emma and what she would want her to do, Regina turned and walked over to the copy room. Inside, she found the Christmas temp sitting on the floor, grinning down at her phone. 

Even more annoyance surged up inside Regina, but she forced it away again. "Miss Swan?" 

Emma looked up and instantly turned white. She jumped to her feet. "Regina. Hi. I was just waiting for the copies to be finished." 

Looking over at the rickety old machine and seeing that they were in fact still churning out, Regina decided to let it slide. Swallowing down the bile in her throat, she nodded. 

"I wanted to... apologise." 

She was only marginally offended by the surprise on the girl's face. "What?" 

"For earlier. You made a simple mistake and I shouldn't have reacted so badly." Regina felt even more irritated when Miss Swan didn't instantly accept her apology, but forced herself to keep going. "I'm sorry for shouting at you in front of everyone." 

After a beat, Emma nodded. She still looked like she was in shock. 

"Thank you. That means a lot," she said slowly. "And I’m sorry about the mistake. It won't happen again." 

"Hopefully not. Luckily you're leaving us in two weeks, right?" Regina asked coolly. At that moment, the copier made a whirring sound that told them both it was finished. Regina held out her hand. "The copies, please." 

Emma spun around and gathered them up, then handed the pile over. Regina took them from her without another word and left the room. 

* * *

The next two weeks passed without incident, and Emma found herself feeling slightly sad by the night of the Christmas party. She would leave the company in three days, and although she already had another temp job lined up for after the holidays, she always felt a little apprehensive about moving on to somewhere new. What she'd told Gina about her work ethic had been true: growing up in foster homes and feeling constantly abandoned meant it was way easier as an adult to be the one to abandon everyone instead. For years, it had worked. But she was nearing 30 now and had to wonder whether she could keep this up forever. As Gina had gently told her more than once, maybe it was time to let those wounds heal. 

She shook the thought away and reminded herself of the one thing that could always cheer her up again: that she'd be meeting Gina herself in three days' time. Remembering that always filled her with a fizzy mix of nerves and excitement, so much so that when she picked up her first glass of champagne from the refreshments table and took a sip, she felt all the bubbles collide like a firework. 

Emma took another sip as she wandered round the edge of the room. Like Elsa had said, the party was little more than an after-work gathering in the largest conference room, but everyone had turned up and the atmosphere was warm. Even though she probably wouldn't stay very long, she was glad she'd come. 

But then she turned back to the food table to grab a snack and found herself face to face with the only person who could change her mind about that. 

Regina blinked at her like she'd forgotten she still worked there. After a beat, she said, "Miss Swan." 

"Hi," Emma replied, forcing a smile. She noticed that Regina had her phone balanced under her wine glass, like she was in the process of texting someone. "How are you doing?" 

It was a perfectly innocuous question, but it still made Regina frown. "How am I doing?" 

"Yes...? Are you having a good time?" 

Regina looked around the room at all the people who worked for her. Truthfully, she never enjoyed these parties very much – not only were they a reminder of how everyone at her company liked one another so much more than they liked her, but she'd also had a solid hatred of the holidays drilled into her from a young age. Christmas meant spending days trapped with her mother, being made to feel guilty for receiving gifts, even when they were from Cora herself. Even at nearly 40, Regina couldn't help dread having to go home for the holidays. Most years she found an excuse to have to work up until the 24th just the shorten her stay as much as possible. 

Realising she hadn't answered the question, she shook herself slightly and said, "Yes, of course. Are you?" 

"Sure. The drinks are good," the temp said, smiling nervously. When Regina didn't respond, she added, "So... Do you have any plans for the holidays?" 

Floundering, Regina tried to remember the last time someone had asked her a personal question like that. With the exception of Emma's texts, no one had tried to get to know her in a while. 

It was weird, actually, but this bouncy blonde woman made her think of Emma. She could imagine her looking like that. 

"I'm going to see my mother," Regina said slowly. After a beat, she added, "And you?" 

"Probably just hanging with friends. I don't really do the family thing." 

"Lucky you," Regina muttered into her glass. She was surprised when Miss Swan laughed. 

"You don't get on with your mom?" 

"Um. No, not really. But who does, right?" 

Emma didn't know anything about that, so she just shrugged. "I guess that's true." 

An awkward silence fell. Regina was just about to excuse herself – possibly to go home and leave her staff to enjoy themselves without her there – when Emma laughed again. "You don't look very happy to be here, you know." 

Regina blinked. "Excuse me?" 

"I'm just saying – it's Christmas, not your own wake." 

Emma heard the words come out of her own mouth and nearly staggered back a step, unsure whether to blame the champagne or the knowledge that she was leaving in three days so couldn't really get fired anymore. Still, she wouldn't be surprised if Regina threw her wine directly in her face and told her to get out. 

The silence dragged on forever, until something even stranger happened: Regina laughed back at her. 

"Maybe I'm just not as a drunk as everyone here," she said, smiling. It was in that exact moment that Emma realised she was actually kind of beautiful – when she wasn't scowling or shouting, her brown eyes were glossy. If Emma had her own Christmas tree, she might decorate them with bronze baubles of that colour. 

"We can remedy that, if you like," Emma replied, grinning. Regina laughed again, shaking her head. 

"You've certainly grown in confidence since we spoke in the copy room." 

"Yeah, well," Emma shrugged. "It's my last week. Now I can freely sabotage the company without worrying about getting caught." 

Regina smirked. "Ah, so you _did_ forget to give me those papers deliberately? Just as I suspected." 

"You got me. It's all part of my grand plan to destroy the world of marketing." 

"You'd be doing us all a service if you did," Regina commented lightly. _She's actually funny,_ Emma said to herself. _Who knew?_

Emma nodded to Regina's nearly empty glass and said, "I'm going to get a refill. Do you want one?" 

Regina thought about it for a second. She still wanted to go home – for the past five years, she'd only stayed at the party for a single drink before vanishing at 7pm – but all of a sudden, that felt silly. This woman wanted to talk to her, and in a few days she'd never have to see her again. She might as well enjoy herself for another hour if the opportunity had been handed to her. 

"You know what," she said, draining the rest of her glass. "I will. Thank you." 

"Great. Be right back." 

She hurried off, leaving Regina with her hip resting against a table. She glanced down and saw that Miss Swan had left her phone there, and her bag on the floor. She couldn't help but be a bit amazed by how naive some people in the city still were. 

As she waited for her refill to appear, Regina lifted her own cell and returned to her conversation with Emma. Her office party was that night as well – along with everyone else in New York, probably – so their texts had been less frequent all evening. Even though she was surprisingly enjoying her chat with the Christmas temp, she was glad to have a moment to message her only friend. 

_How's_ _your party going?_ she asked, pleased to be able to add for once, _I'm_ _actually having_ _a surprisingly_ _nice time_ _._

She sent the message and slipped her phone into her jacket pocket. Across the room, Emma was laughing with one of the web guys with a drink in either hand. 

Then Regina heard a buzzing and glanced down. Emma's phone had lit up on the table. 

She didn't mean to – in fact, she wasn't even interested. But there was a text on the screen and a sudden curiosity overtook her. In a single glance, Regina saw the words. 

_Message from: Gina_

_How's_ _your party going?_ _I'm_ _actually having_ _a surprisingly_ _nice time_ _._

She blinked. It took a moment for her to realise. 

Her hand was twitching as she pulled her phone out once more and sent a second message – this time, just a smiling emoji. As soon as she saw the same image pop up on Emma's screen, her stomach plummeted. 

Emma finally finished talking to the guy from the IT team and made her way back across the room. When she found the space she'd left Regina standing in suddenly empty, her own guts sank. 


	3. Chapter 3

Emma's faint sadness at leaving the company had vanished by her last day. She was still burning at the memory of being left standing alone by her boss, even though they'd been having a perfectly enjoyable conversation. Emma had been able to see that Regina was having a good time talking to her – she had been smiling, for one thing, and she'd accepted Emma's offer of another drink gladly. After she'd vanished, Emma had waited in that spot clutching two glasses for 15 minutes, just in case Regina had run to the bathroom or gone downstairs to quickly finish an email. She never came back, and now Emma couldn't wait for her time with that company to be done. 

Besides, it was December 23rd, and that meant she was meeting Gina that night. Although their conversation had also gone slightly quiet over the past few days, Emma was still excited to finally come face to face with her. Under the notion of 'keeping things exciting', they had agreed not to share photos prior to their drink – all Emma knew about her was that she had dark hair, dark eyes and would most likely be wearing a power suit. 

Across the office, wearing that very suit, Regina was watching her with a stomach like coiled rope. She hadn't been able to stop watching her for the past two days. 

Of course it was her. She couldn't believe she hadn't realised it before. She watched Emma talking with her co-workers, laughing as she tucked her ridiculous Goldilocks curls behind her ears, and saw every one of their texts running through her like blood in her veins. She saw the way she acted so confident and sure of herself, but the second no one was looking, she floundered and swallowed and had to regain her composure. On the outside, she was capable of anything. On the inside, she was only wiling to show her true self to a total stranger who might eventually vanish without having to meet her at all. 

But they were supposed to meet that very evening, and Regina had no idea what to do about it. She had pretended to be busy with holiday preparations for the past few days, giving her an excuse for her distance, and it seemed that Emma had bought it. But now it was five o'clock and Emma was due to leave for ever, and only Regina knew that she was going to pick up her stuff and head for a bar three blocks away while she waited for someone who might be her best friend, or might be absolutely nothing like she expected. 

Regina swallowed, her throat burning, and looked back down at her computer so she wouldn't have to watch Emma's goodbyes. She still wasn't sure if she'd make it to that bar or not, and if she didn't, she didn't want the last time she saw Emma to be with her arms full of notebooks and chipped coffee mugs right before she vanished into the snow. 

When it quietened down in the main office, she thought she was in the clear. But then she heard a faint tap at her door and looked up with a jolt in her stomach. 

There she was. In spite of the way Regina had abandoned her at the Christmas party, Emma was hovering in her doorway, one hand cradling a half-empty box of things and the other resting loosely on the door handle. 

"Hey," she said, pleased to see that her boss's cheeks had turned bright red. _Good_ , she thought. _At least she's ashamed of herself._ "Sorry to bother you. I just... I'm leaving now and I wanted to say thanks." 

Regina blinked. "Thanks?" 

"For the opportunity," Emma clarified. "I had a great time here and you... You've built a really amazing company." 

But all Regina could do was stare at her. Her voice sounded so different now that she knew how it ebbed and glowed in text messages. She'd never noticed this woman's eyes before, but they were green. They were so, so green. 

After a long, awkward silence, Emma forced a smile and placed her box of possessions on the table by the door. She took two steps into Regina's office and held out her hand. 

"Maybe I'll see you around." 

For the next moment, both of them thought Regina wasn't going to do anything. The air was thick with impending humiliation. 

But then Regina finally managed to shake herself back to reality and, in a moment of pure insanity, she stood up from behind her desk. She was surprised by how firm Emma's grip was when she shook her hand. 

When a spark rushed between their palms and made their fingers itch, neither of them commented on it. Nonetheless, Regina saw the flash of surprise in Emma's fascinatingly green eyes. 

"Maybe you will." 

With a faint smile, Emma released her hand and turned for the door. A split second later, she was gone. 

Regina collapsed back into her chair and groaned, her eyes on the clock. They'd agreed to meet at six. She had less than an hour left, and she still had no idea what she was planning to do. 

* * *

Thankful that she'd managed to bully the office concierge into looking after her sad box of possessions for a few hours, Emma slipped into a chair in the corner of the bar and began to wait. She'd been to the bathroom beforehand and checked her curls were intact, and had spent far too long reapplying mascara and a slightly pink lip balm. Normally she wouldn't bother – not even for a date, which she still wasn’t sure this was – but she had a sneaking suspicion that Gina was a woman of high birth and high regard. The last thing she wanted was for her to show up, take one look at her open pores and chapped lips, and leave again. 

Emma was 10 minutes early, but that gave her time to order a drink and start to slowly sip it. Normally she'd get a beer or a whisky, but not tonight. She cradled the gin and tonic like it was completely foreign to her, and she wished she'd had the foresight to ask Gina what her drink of choice was so she could have one waiting for her too. 

She wasn't sure why she felt so nervous. After all, this woman could be no one. They hadn't discussed what this drink meant, or whether they'd ever hang out again, or even if the texting would continue once they finally parted ways. All Emma knew was that she'd spent the past six weeks texting this person more than she'd ever texted any of her friends, and she simply had to put a face to that name. She had to know who could be so wise and so cutting and so unfathomably gentle all at once. 

Six o'clock hit, and Emma instantly straightened her spine. She tried to look thoughtful and interesting so that whenever Gina arrived, she would spot her across the bar and immediately be drawn toward her. 

But whenever the doors opened, it was never a woman on her own. The bar was packed with people celebrating the holidays, and groups of twenty-somethings kept flocking in and battling for tables. More than once Emma had to refuse her spare chair to another person, and each time they looked at her like they didn't believe she needed it. _I'm wearing tinted lip balm_ , she wanted to snap at them. _Of course_ _I'm waiting for someone else._

By 10 past, Gina still wasn't there. Emma's drink was nearly empty. 

She pulled her phone out once more and hoped she'd find a text waiting for her, but there was nothing. Admittedly, she and Gina hadn't spoken quite as much over the past few days, but she knew how crazy the run-up to the holidays could be. Besides, only three days earlier, Gina had been more than enthusiastic about this meeting. Surely in that time Emma couldn't have done something to turn her off again. 

She paused before typing out a message. _Hey! Are you still free tonight?_ She hoped it was casual enough not to scare her off further if Gina really was second guessing herself, and she sent it without letting herself change her mind. Five minutes passed with no reply. 

Emma was so engrossed in checking her phone and snapping her head up to look at the opening door that she didn't notice she was being watched. On the other side of the bar, half hidden behind the throngs of people, a pair of very dark, very uncertain eyes had been fixed on her since she'd walked into the room. 

Regina had managed to get there before her, and had been relieved when Emma hadn't spotted her right away. Now, though, it meant she still hadn't summoned the energy to walk over. She too was fighting to keep her spare chair, and if one more person tried to ask for it, she couldn't be sure she wouldn't cave and give up the whole table. 

She watched as Emma nervously licked her lips, then glanced at the doors once more. With every passing minute, she saw the anxiety on her face grow. 

By 20 past, when Emma still hadn't received a reply, she started to deliberate between sending another message and just giving up. She was already trying to remind herself that this shouldn't really mean anything. After all, it wasn't even a date – Gina was single, sure, but she'd never once mentioned having a history with women, and when Emma had mentioned her sporadic experiences on Tinder, Gina's responses had barely changed in tone. This was just a strange, inexplicable friendship – if that – and the chances were that Gina had forgotten all about their agreement to meet in the excitement of Christmas. She'd text back in an hour or two, mortified, and then maybe they'd rearrange for after the holidays. 

That didn't soothe Emma's sinking stomach even slightly. 

She reluctantly slid her phone back in her pocket and resigned herself to a sad journey home. The snow that had started up that morning had gotten heavier, but her usual excitement over it was severely dampened by something that felt oddly like her heart cracking. 

Just then, she realised that someone had approached her table. They might have even been standing there for a while. With a grunt of annoyance, she said more to herself than to them, "Yeah, fine, I'm leaving – you can have the table." When they didn't reply, she finally looked up. 

To her absolute horror, she found her boss of only an hour ago standing in front of her. She wasn't smiling exactly, but she did look like she might be trying to. 

Emma blinked. "Hey. I didn't expect to see you here." 

"No," Regina replied, reaching up to fluff the back of her hair. "I... guess you didn't." 

That was an undoubtedly weird way to respond to that statement, but Emma didn't dwell on it. She just reached for her backpack. 

"I'm just heading off. Were you hoping to get the table?" 

"The what?" 

"The table," Emma repeated more slowly. Maybe Regina was drunk already. "Is that why you came over?" 

"Oh. No, not exactly." 

When Emma realised that she wasn't planning to elaborate, she sighed and pulled her bag into her lap. "Look, it's been nice seeing you again, but I think I've been stood up, so I'm just going to head home, okay?" 

Regina didn't respond. Eventually Emma stood up, rebuttoned her coat and nodded. "Merry Christmas, Regina." 

She took two steps away from the table and started to head for the door. Then, from behind her, she heard her boss's voice pipe up once more. 

"I'm her." 

Emma turned back around with a grumble of annoyance. "Excuse me?" 

"I'm... her," Regina said helplessly. "Gina. She's me." 

For a second, Emma just blinked at her. She knew what she was saying, but somehow the dots weren't connecting in her head. It would have been just as confusing if Regina had admitted to being her estranged mother. 

"What do you mean?" 

Regina groaned loudly and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm Gina. I told you that was my name because I've always tried to maintain some privacy. My mother again, you know?" She tried to laugh, but Emma didn't return it. After a beat, she continued. "I didn't realise it was you until the office party." 

The pieces were slowly starting to settle, but Emma still shook her head like she didn't want them to. "What do you mean? How?" 

"When you went off to get us drinks, I texted you. Your phone lit up. I saw my own message." 

She could see the colour draining from Emma's face as she spoke. At that, Regina wished she hadn't bothered to walk over. 

"So you..." Emma started, then faltered. "You ran?" 

She didn't sound accusatory – just disappointed. Regina sighed. 

"Yes. Sort of like how you want to run right now, I'd wager." 

She had a point. Emma glanced at the door, which was looking increasingly welcoming, and tried to loosen her posture. 

"Right," she conceded. "I guess that's fair." 

There was a long pause as they just looked at one another. Regina waited for her to shrug and say this was too much and then leave anyway. But instead, Emma reached up to brush her hair back from her face and asked, "You really didn't know it was me?" 

"No. I didn't have a clue. Honestly, I..." Regina faltered before admitting, "I had no idea what your name was at work. In my head, I called you Goldilocks." 

She was immensely relieved when Emma snorted with laughter. Finally, she took a step closer again. "Well, I can assure you that's not the worst nickname I've ever been given." 

The uncertain smile Regina gave her then was oddly beautiful. As soon as Emma saw it, she couldn't believe she hadn't connected the dots sooner. 

"Look, I..." Regina started, looking like she wanted to tug at her collar or give herself a sharp pinch on the arm. "I wasn't sure whether I should still meet you, but I also didn't know how to tell you the truth. It's all a bit delicate, isn't it?" 

Emma nodded. "Yeah. That's one word for it." 

"But since we definitely had a... a connection leading up to this, and since you're no longer my employee, maybe we could...?" Regina's sentence faded off as she gestured at the empty table beside her. 

She waited for Emma to laugh and turn away, but instead she saw her steel herself. "Yeah. Okay. We can have a drink." 

"Great," Regina replied, her relief making her face soften. She looked down at Emma's empty glass. "Were you having a G&T?" 

"Oh, God no," Emma said, dumping her bag back underneath the table. "I mean, I was, but now I need a whisky. A really fucking large one." 

* * *

When Regina returned to the table with two drinks, she was surprised to find Emma still sitting there. It would have served her right if she'd taken off the moment her back was turned. Instead, she was looking deeply uncomfortable and forcing a smile that visibly strained her cheeks. Regina slid the whisky – the very fucking large whisky – toward her and tried to offer her a smile that was a little more reassuring. 

"So," she said, hiding her trembling hands under the table. "Here we are. After all these weeks." 

Emma nodded. "You know, I'd never have pegged you as a British Baking Show fan." 

"Oh, but I am. Bordering on obsessive." 

"And you really didn't have any friends to discuss it with?" 

Regina's smile got more strained. "No. I never lied to you about anything – I don't really have any friends at all." 

It made a lot more sense now, although Emma wasn't about to say that. She took a sip of her whisky. 

"You know, it was Elsa who I was meant to be texting that night." 

"Really? Does she know?" 

"No, of course not. How crazy would that sound if I told people I'd made a pen friend with someone who could very well be a murderer?" 

"Odd that you've decided I'm not," Regina replied with a coyly arched eyebrow. Emma couldn't help but laugh. 

"Well, I didn't think Gina was. Now I know who she really is, it seems more likely again." She paused, then asked, "Why did you pick Gina?" 

"It was what my father used to call me." 

"Before he died?" Emma asked. It felt weird to know such an intimate detail about her boss when she hadn't been given permission to. She could tell from the strained expression on Regina's face that she felt the same. 

"Yes. I've never let anyone call me it since." 

Somehow, Emma knew that was a compliment. She also knew that if she made a big deal about it, she'd push Regina away altogether. 

"I'm embarrassed I didn't put the pieces together," she admitted. To her surprise, Regina smirked. 

"Me too. You told me you were temping and that you were working for a heinous witch until the holidays – from that alone, I should have guessed." 

At that, Emma's face burned like molten lava. "Oh my God. I didn't mean to call you that." 

"Yes, you did. And since I was never very nice to you, it wasn't an unfair comment to make." 

Emma had never seen Regina being so calm and reasonable before. It was alarming, 

"Why _were_ you so mean to me?" she asked slowly. "I mean, I know when I ruined your dress on my first day you were within your rights to yell at me. But after that – I swear I was actually trying my best." 

The slightly resentful pout on Emma's face was tantalising. Regina smiled, suddenly wishing she could lean forward and wipe it off with her thumb. 

"I know. But like I always told you – I have trouble making friends. I've been pushing people away for years so they don't take advantage of me, and so when I saw this pretty little blonde thing skipping around my office making everybody fall in love with her, it was... hard." 

Emma scowled. "I don't _skip_." 

"No, you're right. You actually slouch quite a lot." 

"You can't call me pretty and then insult me in the next breath." 

"And you wonder why I have no friends?" Regina asked, smiling over the rim of her glass. It wasn't a fact that caused her much pain anymore – it had been a reality for so long that the idea of having casual acquaintances no longer appealed to her at all. Besides, she'd gotten ever so good at being scary enough that no one wanted to know her. If she stopped now, then all her hard work would have gone to waste. 

Rolling her eyes, Emma said, "No. I guess not." Then she paused and, in a moment of total insanity, asked, "But you _do_ think I'm pretty?" 

She was expecting Regina to scoff and look away and tell her she was focusing on all the wrong things, but instead she just shrugged. "Obviously." 

"Obviously?" 

"Of course, Miss Swan. If I didn't, then why would I be here?" 

And finally, Emma had her answer – this _was_ a date. She'd been wondering for weeks, and Regina had been the one to decide it for her. 

She smiled tentatively. "Yeah. Good point." 

Regina was absolutely certain in that moment that she could watch her smile forever. Emma's eyes were sharp and narrow, and yet, when she smiled, they somehow looked wider. They didn't crinkle at the sides. She almost looked shocked that someone was making her smile at all, and that was a strangely beautiful thing. All at once, Regina was immensely grateful that she was the one to make her feel surprised like that. 

"So," she said, lifting her glass. "How about a toast?" 

"To what?" 

Regina's gaze never left Emma's. "To new friendships. And whatever they may turn into." 

The next smile Emma gave her was brighter, bolder and infinitely more dazzling. She clinked her glass against Regina's without hesitation. 

"Sure,” she said softly, “I'll drink to that." 

* * *

By the time they left the bar, it was quiet out and the streets were dusted with snow. Regina felt slightly buzzed from the four large drinks and several hours of conversation that had actually been pleasant – more than pleasant, in fact, a lot of the time. Her cheeks were already frozen from the cold, but the rest of her felt glowing and warm as she walked with Emma back to the office so she could collect her things. 

"So that was... nice," Emma said, looking down at the ground. "Really nice, actually." 

Regina smirked. "Don't sound so shocked." 

"Well, aren't you surprised too?" 

"Yes," Regina said pleasantly. "I thought it was going to be an unmitigated disaster, but actually, I had a good time." 

Emma turned her face slightly so Regina wouldn't see the flush in her cheeks. 

As they reached the office, she too could feel the heat from the alcohol slipping down her limbs. They felt oddly clunky, like just being near Regina was slowing her blood, and it took all her effort and self-control not to trip up the curb as they eventually came to a halt. 

She turned to Regina and found her already smiling. It was an interesting smile – not beaming, but full of intrigue. All of a sudden, all Emma could imagine was her smiling like that in a whole array of forbidden situations. 

"Are you very cold?" 

Emma jumped at the question. "Not really. Why?" 

"You have very pink cheeks." 

"Oh. Well. It's probably the snow.” 

"Ah." Regina looked up at the sky and smiled again. "We might actually get a white Christmas if we're lucky." 

As she continued staring upwards, Emma was able to take in the dark spikes of her eyelashes and the deep scar that trailed up from her top lip. She edged closer. 

When Regina looked back at her, Emma couldn't help but blurt out, "I'd like to see you again. If you want." 

"I do want," Regina replied. "I'm... sorry we got off to a rocky start. But at least it meant I could get my work done for the past six weeks without getting distracted by you in my office." 

"That's true," Emma laughed. Regina didn't respond, which left them standing in silence looking at one another for a moment. 

Emma felt a leap in her chest when she realised Regina was leaning forward. It was a slow, overwhelmingly cautious movement, but she was grateful for that. Anything quicker and she might have run. 

Instead, she smiled and met the kiss gladly. It was brief and tentative, but as the snow tickled her forehead and rested on the tip of her nose, it all felt completely perfect. Regina's cheeks were just as pink as her own when she pulled away, and Emma was filled with the urge the grab her and kiss her harder. 

They stood in silence for another second, smiling awkwardly. At one point, Emma nearly reached for Regina's hand, but she pulled back at the last moment. 

"Hey," she said instead. "What are you doing for New Year?" 

And for the first time in her life, Regina felt no shame at all in replying, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." 

"I've been invited to a party," Emma said slowly. "It might be a bit lame, but maybe... Maybe we could go together?" 

Just like that, Regina was kissing her again. It was harder this time, more determined, and Emma nearly melted at the sudden feeling of a warm hand against her cold cheek. 

When they pulled away, Regina's eyes were gleaming. "I'd really like that." 

"Great. Then... I'll text you?" 

"Please do. And make sure you change my name in your phone, please." 

Emma grinned. "You got it, Gina." 

She took a step back, her eyes never leaving Regina's, before softly saying, "Merry Christmas." When she turned away, heading toward the lobby, Regina stayed exactly where she was, refusing to let herself blink as she watched Emma sauntering off through the snow with her Goldilocks curls bouncing against her shoulders. 

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
